The Han Family Christmas Party (December 24, 2012)
The Han estate's grand driveway was a sheet of ice, glittering under strands of fairy lights that flickered like Jeong's ghostly laughter. So-young's breath fogged in the air as she hauled a tray of gingerbread men toward the mansion, their frosting smiles smudged from where they'd stuck to the tray. Again.
Third batch this week.
Inside, chaos reigned.
Dae-ho stood in the courtyard, wielding a blowtorch over what might have been a turkey. "It's sous vide meets deep-fried!" he shouted over the sizzling grease.
Li Na lounged on the antique divan, sipping from a champagne flute filled with suspiciously amber liquid. "Apple cider," she said sweetly when So-young raised an eyebrow.
Grandfather sat stiffly in his wingback chair, pretending he hadn't already eaten six Blizzard Buns that morning. The powdered sugar on his lapel betrayed him.
And Mom—
"So-young-ah!" Mom limped into the foyer, her movements still careful after her Strain recovery, but her smile was bright. "Did you—oh." Her nose wrinkled at the gingerbread men.
"They're expressive," So-young defended.
Mom poked one. It twitched.
"Jeong's starter again?"
"It makes them chewy!"
Li Na cackled into her "cider." "They look like they've been through war."
"We're not serving possessed cookies at Christmas," Mom said firmly, steering So-young toward the kitchen.
The Kitchen Catastrophe
The Han estate's kitchen was a battlefield of half-finished dishes:
Dae-ho's "turkey" (now smoking in the sink)
Aunt Ji-eun's "gluten-free" mandu (hard enough to crack tile)
Grandfather's "secret" fruitcake (soaked in enough brandy to down a horse)
So-young's gingerbread men were the least of their problems.
"We have two hours until guests arrive," Mom said, surveying the carnage.
Li Na drained her glass. "I'll handle the drinks."
"No."
"Fine. I'll handle the non-alcoholic drinks."
Mom pointed to the walk-in pantry. "So-young, salvage what you can."
Inside, So-young found Jeong's antique recipe box tucked behind sacks of flour. The wood was warm under her fingers, the carvings of foxes and apricot blossoms worn smooth with time.
Click.
The hidden compartment slid open, revealing a yellowed card:
"Christmas Morning Buns (For When You've Ruined Dinner)"
Knead with cinnamon tears. Bake at midnight. Share only with those who matter.
The Midnight Bake
The house quieted after the disastrous dinner (Dae-ho's turkey was declared a "biohazard"; Aunt Ji-eun's mandu were repurposed as doorstops).
At 11:47 PM, So-young crept back to the kitchen.
Jeong's starter bubbled eagerly in its jar, glowing faintly blue. She measured flour with her heart, just as Mom had taught her, and added a pinch of the special cinnamon—the kind Li Na had stolen back from Moon & Son's lab last month.
The dough came alive under her hands, warm and singing.
"You're cheating," Li Na said from the doorway.
So-young jumped. "It's not cheating if it's magic."
Li Na stole a pinch of dough. It sparked between her fingers. "Huh."
Together, they shaped the buns into wreaths, twisting the dough into braids that shimmered like frost.
"Why midnight?" Li Na asked as the oven hummed.
So-young checked Jeong's note again. "Because it's when the veil is thinnest."
At exactly 12:00 AM, the timer dinged.
The buns emerged golden, their centers swirling with molten honey and something luminous.
Li Na took the first bite—and froze.
"Tastes like…" Her voice cracked. "Like Dad's bakery. When I was little."
So-young's own bite flooded her with memories: Mom's hands guiding hers over dough. Grandfather's rare smile. Jeong's laughter in the steam.
The kitchen door creaked open.
Grandfather stood there, drawn by the scent.
Without a word, So-young held out a bun.
He ate it in one bite.
A tear traced down his wrinkled cheek.
The Gift Exchange (December 25, 2:00 AM)
They gathered around the tree—just the five of them (Mom, Grandfather, Li Na, Dae-ho, So-young)—passing buns and stolen sips of soju.
Gifts Exchanged:
Dae-ho gave Grandfather a "World's Okayest CEO" mug. (The old man used it immediately.)
Li Na gifted So-young a spy camera disguised as a rolling pin. ("For corporate espionage.")
Mom presented Grandfather with a photo album—filled with pictures of Seong-ho. (Silence. Then a single, shuddering breath.)
Then—
So-young's turn. She handed Grandfather a small box.
Inside: A vial of Jeong's original starter, glowing faintly blue.
"For the flagship store," she mumbled. "So they'll finally make something edible."
Grandfather stared at it. The room held its breath.
Then—
"Hmph." He pocketed it. "Your icing skills still need work."
(High praise.)
New Year's Eve: Secrets in the Snow
December 31, 2012
At 11:58 PM, So-young knelt beneath the apricot tree, her fingers numb from digging through snow-covered roots.
There. A metal box, frostbitten but intact.
Inside:
Seong-ho's journal, burned at the edges
A 1968 photo of him and Grandfather, arms slung around each other
A recipe titled "For Joon-ho, When You're Ready"
The clock struck twelve. Fireworks exploded overhead, painting the snow in bursts of gold.
Grandfather appeared beside her, staring at the photo.
"He loved you," So-young said softly.
A pause. Then—
"I know."
Epilogue: The First Sunrise (January 1, 2013)
At dawn, the family gathered on the estate's highest balcony, steaming cups of ddeokguk in hand.
Mom leaned against So-young.
Li Na smirked at Dae-ho's bedhead.
Grandfather sipped his soup—quietly content.
And beneath them, Seoul woke to a new year, its streets still humming with the legend of the Blizzard Bun.